And Start Again
by conjure-at-your-own-risk
Summary: Those who wander aren't always lost because they find each other eventually. Sirius wins the trial and gets to raise The Girl-Who-Lived, but nothing is ever perfect or goes as planned. Canon ships. Gender-bended


**AN: Haven't we covered that I have in self-control when it comes to starting and finishing fics? This has been sitting in my iCloud for **_**months, **_**especially since I've been revising everything (new versions of fics are on my AO3 account, and will be posted back on here on a later date). ****This is going to take a very different turn from most of my fics. More action because that was a goal that I wanted improve for one of my classes, and hopefully what will seem to be a tighter plot. There will be different deaths, so one is safe. Keep that in mind.**

**Rule 63 is applied, that means everyone in Harry's generation is a different sex and gender. **

**Tumblr: conjure-at-your-own-risk**

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter is still owned by Warner Bros, Bloomsbury, and JK Rowling. If I wrote it then it would be a crappy job because I would have trouble of who to kill off, and my writing still has a lot of problems.

**Title**: And Start Again: Prologue

**Word Count: **6K

**Summary**: Those who wander aren't always lost because they find each other eventually. Sirius wins the trial and gets to raise The Girl-Who-Lived, but nothing is ever perfect or goes as planned. Canon ships. Gender-bended

* * *

"Mister Black?" Halley Potter poked her head from behind the door. "What are you doing?"

Her godfather was standing in front of an old-fashioned stove that would have made Aunt Petunia shriek in despair. Of course, the little girl had a feeling that many things about that man would make her aunt shudder and cry. His hair was long and always messy, he was never well groomed, he would say bad words under his breath, he didn't know how to keep his house clean, and he only knew how to make sandwiches and eggs.

But he was significantly better than the Dursleys. It was two months now, and Halley already knew that this strange man cared for her more than Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon ever could or would.

"I'm making us breakfast, kiddo." Mr Black quickly looked over his shoulder, smiling. "How do you feel about eggs?"

Halley made a face. She stepped in front of the door and rubbed her sleepy eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "I—I can make bacon—"

"No!" Mr. Black spun around on the spot. His elbow almost knocked the empty frying pan to the floor. His black eyes were wide and there was a stark, protective look over his face. "As your godfather I should be making you meals. Halley, you're a child! You should be doing what other children do…"

"Like what?" she asked. Ever since she was whisked away from the Dursleys, she had only seen the inside of his spooky house, a strange medical room at an even stranger hospital of some kind, and a very scary stone room that was filled with many people wearing robes. There weren't many chances to meet other children like her. Children that were witches and wizards.

Mr. Black's face deflated and his shoulders sagged. Something about him seemed to crumble, making him radiate something very sad and guilty. "Like...like Quidditch! Quidditch and Gobstones and Exploding Snap!" Halley had no clue what he was talking about except for Quidditch. Her face must have showed because that only made him look worse. He sighed and began cracking eggs in the frying pan. Halley sat at the long table and waited for breakfast to come. Her She shivered and brought the robe up closer to her.

Grimmauld Place was old, smelled funny, and snakes were everywhere. Halley was afraid of snakes, and Sirius had tried to get rid of most of them with magic but some were too stubborn to leave. There were some things in his house that scared him, too. Like the portrait in the hall that was covered by a heavy sheet, and the wall filled with the disembodied heads of some sort of long-eared monster. He had even once told her that he had something called a 'Creature' living with him that looked liked those monsters, but 'Creature' was asked to leave. Despite the creepiness, she was told that this was one of the safest places for her to live. The house was under a special charm that she had trouble pronouncing.

Halley had her own room now. It was much bigger than Daisy's room and had red walls and a big banner with a yellow lion on it. She liked the room a lot, but she had no clue what to do with all of that extra space. She had even once peaked inside and thought that Mr Black's room was very odd. Like hers, he had a lion banner on the wall behind his bed. But his walls weren't empty, they were filled with black-and-white _moving_ pictures of four boys, and there were some non-moving pictures of women wearing swimming outfits.

She'd once asked him why he had the pictures of the women, and he told her to ask again when she was older.

Halley put a smile on her face when Mr Black handed her a plate of eggs. They were runny and gooey, and they complimented the slightly burnt toast that he also served. He sat down next to her and began wolfing down his food. She hoped that all of that food would help him, because Mr Black was a very thin man. He almost looked like a skeleton wrapped in dirty and pale skin when she had first seen him. It wasn't exactly a charming first time that they had shared. She'd screamed her head off when the dog had turned into a fighting man, and he had trouble concealing her.

"You know the meeting that I was telling you about?" he asked her around hungry mouthfuls of toast.

She nodded, remembering yesterday's conversation about some witches and wizards that were going to come over. They all knew each other and Mr Black, and he'd offered her to stay and watch the meeting, but she'd politely declined. She didn't wanted to meet the wizards and witches during the scary trial, even if they were responsible for her to live with Mr Black. She would rather stay in her room and look at the book about flying. The pictures moved and the game looked very exciting and dangerous. It had an appeal that she liked.

"One of them, Arthur Weasley, he has a girl that I think is your age." Mr Black chewed thoughtfully. "A little boy, too. Maybe I can ask him to bring them over."

Halley's green eyes widened as she tried to imagine what it would be like. She could only think of miniature versions of the strange wizards and witches that she had encountered. Like the wizard with the long beard and gave her lemon candies when he thought when no one was looking, the scary one that wore pink and that would speak to her in a sickly sweet voice, or the even scarier wizard that had long blond hair and would make Halley feel sick whenever he would look at her. She hoped that the last two didn't have any children near her age.

"What if they don't like me?" she whispered. She poked at her eggs, remembering how her cousin Daisy would treat their classmates if any of them had gotten too friendly with Halley. She was the freak that made strange things happen in her school. Now that she knew about magic, she was afraid that she wouldn't know how to fit in.

Mr Black's face softened. He ruffled her hair affectionately, his voice breaking a little. "Trust me. The Weasleys are one of the nicest Wizarding families out there, and you're James and Lily's kid."

"But—" Halley began.

"No buts." He tapped her nose with his thin index finger. "You're going to make some friends, Halley Lily Potter. Okay?"

Her voice wobbled. "Okay."

She blinked her eyes and was surprised to find some tears. She blew her nose (Aunt Petunia would have disapproved) with her sleeve. She moved to clear the dishes away, a reflex from the Dursleys—and Mr Black closed his hand around her wrist.

"No," he said. "I'll do the dishes."

"But I want to help," Halley said. It was very confusing living with him. Everything that she had done for the Dursleys he didn't want her to do. Mr Black wasn't very good at it, but he could cook and clean and he wanted her to have fun.

"Here." He let go of her wrist and patted the tabletop. "You sit up here while I clean this up. I'll even tell you a story about your old man and I when we were in school." He looked different now. Less distant and more focused. He ran a hand through his matted hair and started piling up their plates.

Halley's stomach did that weird clenching feeling whenever he brought up her parents. She sat on the table and drew her knees up to her chin. "What can you tell me?" she asked, and ignored the trembling in his hands. He told her a story about her dad and their friends that could turn into animals to help a friend of theirs. Transfixed, Halley listened about how her dad could turn into a stag, Mr Black as a large dog, and with a pause, how their other friend could turn into a wolf. He spoke of running and exploring a forest near their school that was filled with various monsters and creatures. Most of all, he spoke how he and her dad would help their friend that could turn into a wolf. It was a painful transformation for the other friend, and with the help of Mr Black and her dad, it made it easier for their friend to handle those nights.

"When can I learn to do that?" she asked. Attending Hogwarts sounded so far away from now.

"Until you're older. Much older. And with proper training." Mr Black's face went pink. "Not a lot of wizards can do it, and you'll need to register with the Ministry."

"Can you teach me?"

"Perhaps," he said with a smile. "What animal do you think you'll be?"

"I dunno," Halley said. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, unsure of what animal that she liked the most. Maybe a lion like the one on the red banner or a stag like her dad. That would be nice. "I don't want to be a snake."

Mr Black threw his head back and laughed, making him appear years younger.

They cleaned for most of the day. It was an old house and the mess that it was in would have made Aunt Petunia suffer a heart attack. There were spider cobwebs on the chandeliers, the silver was tarnished and disorganised, and the curtains moved as if something was bulging behind them. Halley was glad to finally do something of use, even if it'd meant spraying purple liquid at the curtain monsters that were called doxies for most of the morning. They were small, vicious, and they had to fly. At first, she had fun because Mr Black made it into a game and then she had trouble not crying when one had bit her ear.

"I'm so sorry!" He tried to sooth her and he tugged her handkerchief off. "Please, I need you to stay still." He pulled her hair back and dabbed her ear with a potion that smelled foul.

"It—it bit me!" Halley said. She clutched her ear, surprised at how sharp and pointy the doxies' teeth were. The potion felt oddly hot to her skin. Her crying subsided and she touched the injury with her fingers. She felt a smear of blood but the injury was gone. She looked to the twitching doxie that she had slammed into the wall with her sprayer. "Can I step on it?"

"No. You're going to spray it," he said. He untied his own handkerchief and scratched his beard. "How about we do something safer, like throwaway my family's antique silver? We'll stop for lunch and then I'll fire call Mr Weasley. Does that sound good?"

Safe was a common word ever since the trial. She wasn't safe with the Dursleys, so some important witches and wizards took her away. They had a trial to figure out who she would stay the safest with, and Mr Black had won much to the dismay of several sour-faced wizards. Then he'd took her to his house and said that it would keep her safe from the scary witches and wizards that didn't liked her, and from nosy reporters. Halley had been confused, but she was explained before the trial about her parents, a dark wizard, what had happened the night that they'd died. She thought that there were better ways of telling her that magic was real and that she was a witch, but life had other ideas.

"Yes." Halley said. Her ear now felt numb and she was confused as to why he wanted to throwaway his family's silver. "I'll like that."

* * *

The girl had flame-coloured hair that was in a plait and friendly round face filled with freckles and a long nose. Her maroon jumper looked hand-made and was just as worn as her pair of denims. Her little brother was about her height, maybe taller, and he had the same hair colour and freckles. His jumper was brown and he was clinging to his father's side. Soot and ashes covered all three of their faces and their father's glasses

"Hullo, Sirius," Mr Weasley said. He took his glasses off and tapped them with his wand. All of the soot and grime vanished and he did the same for his children. Halley peeked from behind Mr Black's legs. Mr Weasley was tall and thin and balding. His daughter had his smile. He looked down at Halley and his blue eyes were blinking. "My, she looks just like her father. Those must be her mother's eyes, too."

"Don't be shy," Mr Black murmured. He gently pushed her away from him. He looked up and held his hand out. "Good to see you, Arthur."

Mr Weasley shook his hand. "If only it was under happier circumstances. This is Rory." He pointed to the girl who was playing with the tail of her plait. "And this is Gideon." The little boy at his side was staring wide-eyed at Mr Black as if the older man was a ghost. "And where will the three of them be staying?"

"I have Halley's room all set up. There's toys, sandwiches, and pumpkin juice." Mr Black leaded them up the creaky and winding staircase to the second floor. He opened the second door on the right and gestured the Halley and the two other children inside. "And any word on when Mad-Eye or Remus are supposed to be here? I found this Boggart in my mother's room, and I can't get rid of it."

The two adults talked and spoke of people with strange names and of even stranger nouns. The door was knocked again and there was the sound of the Floo being used downstairs. Mr Black ran down to see who they were, and Mr Weasley turned to his children, his voice was somewhat stern.

"The same rules when visiting your Great-Aunt Muriel applies here," he said. Rory made an exasperated face at the name. "Aurora, I saw that. No more picking locks and wandering off. This isn't your home and shouldn't go exploring."

"But what if we want to play with the Boggart?" Rory asked sweetly.

"Like when the ghoul wanted someone to play with?" Mr Weasley rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm downstairs if you need me." He left and Halley could hear more voices echoing from the floor below.

"Does it hurt?" Rory blurted out the second that her father left. Her face flushed to a dull red. "Your scar, I mean."

"Rory!" her brother gasped.

Halley smoothed her fringe back and traced the scar. Funny how it used to be her favourite feature and now not so much. "Should it?"

The redhead squinted her eyes and examined Halley's scar. "Dunno? I thought it would hurt because...you know…" She gave a lame shrug. Looking eager to change topics, she asked, "Can I plait your hair? Mum taught me this really fancy one and I'm not allowed to use Gid's head anymore." Her brother inched away from her on the bed. His hair also looked recently cut.

Halley ran a hand through her tangled hair. She and Mr Black weren't very good with keeping their hair tamed. Ever since she came to live with him, she never had to go through one of Aunt Petunia's haircuts that would leave Halley with a short bob. Now it fell past her shoulders and was even more unruly. Although she always felt very well groomed next to Mr Black. "I dunno, my hair is really messy and..."

Rory shook her head. "Your hair's fine. You just need to brush it more often. Do you have a brush and some elastics?"

Soon Halley was sitting cross-legged on her bed and with Rory sitting behind her. The brushing was very gentile compared to Aunt Petunia's. Her brother dutifully held the elastics in one palm as he read the book about flying in the other. "What's your team?" he asked.

"I don't have one." Halley looked over to see what pages that he was reading. It took a second or two for the blurriness to go away. "What's yours?"

"He likes the Harpies," Rory said. She took an elastic from Gid and separated a section of Halley's hair before plaiting another. "The Cannons are mine. They're having some bad luck right now but it'll get better soon."

_They won't_, Gid mouthed. He shifted the book in his hand. "You play?"

"I've never gone on a broom before," Halley admitted.

_"Never?"_ Rory sounded as thought Halley said that she'd never tried chocolate. She dropped Halley's hair. "We'll have to fix that. You can come to our house and we can teach how to fly and play Quidditch _and_ you can help us defeat our sisters when we play against them."

"How many sisters do you two have?" Halley asked, feeling very curious about their lives in the Wizarding World. She couldn't imagine what it was like to grow up knowing how to fly a broom, or to eat sweets that would change colour, or to travel through fireplaces.

"Too many," Rory said. She sounded weary. "We have five older sisters."

"How do you manage?" Halley looked at Gid was still engrossed in the book. He was staring almost dreamily at a group of witches wearing green.

He looked up after being addressed, and his face was pink. "You're going to Hogwarts, right?"

Hogwarts. The school that Halley would one day be going to. That was where her parents had met, that was where Mr Black and his friends had gone to, and was a word that was spoken a lot at her trial. According to Mr Black, those were some of the best seven years of his life, and his stories backed that up. So many of them had friendship and magic and adventure; it was something that Halley sorely wished to experience.

"Yes," she said. "I'm going to Hogwarts."

Rory held two sections of the unruly hair in her hands. "Has—has Mr Black said anything about the Sorting?"

"Not much." Halley's forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember what Mr Black had said about the mystical Sorting process. He had explained to her about the Houses weeks ago, but she was mostly paying attention to which House she'd liked the most. "Do you know anything?"

"The twins—that's Felicity and Georgia, you see—say that we have to fight a troll." Rory's face turned ashen and she shuddered. "A troll! Can you believe it? They say that you'll be a Hufflepuff if you ask for help, a Ravenclaw if you do a clever spell to fight the troll, a Slytherin if you trick it somehow, or you'll be a Gryffindor if you do something really brave to fight it off."

"I don't want to fight a troll," Halley said. She pictured herself looking very small in front of a large, misshapen man that was going to crush her.

"That's when they send you back," Rory said morosely. "They put you on the train and you go back home."

"They told me that you have to fly through the Forbidden Forest. There's spiders, werewolves, vampires..." Gid said. "Georgia never said anything about a troll."

"Felicity told me that it's a troll..." Rory groaned and accidentally tugged too hard on Halley's hair. "One of them is lying to us!"

"Ah, but which is true?" said a different voice. The three of them jumped to see a tall wizard with a long white beard standing by the door. He had a wrinkled, thin face and was wearing a pair of crescent-shaped glasses.

Gid emitted an odd sound. Rory squeaked and dropped Halley's parted and plaited hair. "You're—you're—you're—" she cluttered.

"And you must be Molly and Arthur's youngest children," the wizard said. He stepped inside the room and curiously watched then. Halley stared back, still finding him to be one of the most eccentric and oddly dressed people that she had ever met. His robes were the same pale blue of his eyes and had silver swirls and stars in them. His long beard was tucked into his belt and had more silver designs stamped into the leather. "Ah, you are the spitting image of your parents. Do you know that, Halley Potter?"

"That's what Mr Black tells me," she said.

"As he would," he said. A shadow of am emotion crossed over his face, and he appeared older. "And are you well, Miss Potter?"

"Yes?" Halley said. Burnt toast and all, she would say that she was feeling rather well with living with Mr Black.

The wizard let out a sigh. "Good, good... Forgive me, an old man has his worries..." He opened a small drawstring bag and pulled a small hard candy from the inside. "It is good to hear that you are well. Your godfather only says such wonderful things about you. Sherbet lemon?"

The three of them nodded and were happily trying sherbet lemons. Finding the citrus taste odd but not entirely unpleasant as she did before, Halley supposed that the sherbets weren't all bad, they reminded her the rare times of eating the hard candies that Mrs Figg kept in her purse.

"Oh, there you are!" A new wizard appeared. He was incredibly short and had a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. "Albus!" he chastised at seeing the sherbets out. "I swear that you are responsible for half of the cavities at Hogwarts!"

"Why, Filius, it's well known that my collection of sherbet lemons are free to anyone." The taller wizard's blue eyes twinkled from behind his glasses. "I remember once I had a student in my office, and when I'd turned away for a quick moment he had taken everything in the jar and had stuffed them in his pockets."

"And this is why I buy you toothbrushes every Christmas." Filius turned away and eyed the three children that were tasting their sherbet lemons. "Goodness, we must get going. The meeting is about to start."

"Wha's'it bout?" Rory asked. There was a final smack as she finished off the sweet. Halley was impressed with how quickly it was eaten.

"I'm afraid that you're too young to be involved right now." Albus gestured to the staircase. "Shall we join the others?"

"Only if you keep those despicable sweets to yourself." The two argued as they walked down to the meeting. The door closed by itself behind them.

Finally, Halley was able to finish her sherbet lemon. "Who were they?"

"That was Albus bloody Dumbledore," Rory breathed.

"Oh, that's his name?" Halley said. "I saw him at the trial."

"He's really famous and everything." Gid's voice dropped a notch. "They say that—that even _You-Know-Who_ was afraid of him."

Halley wasn't sure how a dark wizard of nightmarish legend was afraid of an old man like Albus Dumbledore who enjoyed sweets.

"He's the Headmaster, you know," Rory went on. "Yeah, he's on a Chocolate Frog card and think he's got a seat on some stuff. Anyway, you're done!" She handed Halley a small mirror.

Halley checked her reflection in the handheld mirror. Her face wasn't as thin as it used to be, but it was much paler from always being inside. Her unruly hair was plaited and felt most of the weight centred on the back of her head. She turned her head to see the side of the bun. The french plait was coiled into a spiral and set into the bun. Halley lightly brushed her fingers over the plait.

"It's kinda crooked," Rory mumbled. She was blushing and playing with her own hair. "Mum knows this spell that can make it stick better, too. Bobby pins can only do so much..."

"It's pretty," Gid said. He had abandoned the book and was laying on his stomach. He was watching Halley's face for her reaction, too. "I can see your eyes."

Halley moved her hand to push some of her hair away out of reflex, but wasn't used to her hair being styled like this. She always hid behind her hair and now she couldn't do that. "I like it," she assured Rory.

The blush grew and Rory mumbled something under her breath. "Good, ah, that's good."

Next, Rory attempted to teach Halley how to make plaits. Their positions were switched with the redhead witch telling Halley what to do while snacking on sandwiches. In the end, Halley could only make two kinds of plaits and they agreed that the tomato and cheese sandwiches were better than the ham ones.

Halley liked this, this feeling of having friends. There was no Daisy to scare away potential friends in school, and there were no Dursleys to hide her away. For what could be the first time, Halley had _friends. _She had a godfather that loved her, an eccentric but exciting home to live in, but friends. She had friends.

"What should we do now?" she asked after finishing her third sandwich. The plate that Sirius had left for them was almost empty, and the jug was less than a third full.

"I wish we could play Quidditch," Gid sighed. He looked out the window to where the small courtyard and an even smaller copse of trees were. "But we'll have to be at home. Your yard is too small."

"Chess?" Rory said. She licked some mustard off her fingers. Aunt Petunia would be scandalised by her unladylike behaviour. "Have you ever played?"

"A little," Halley admitted.

"Don't," Gid warned with a moan. "She'll never stop playing if you let her start."

"That's not true!"

"At Great-Aunt Muriel's last year, you made _everyone_ play!" He looked at Halley mournfully. "No one could beat her. We had to sleep over because Uncle Bilius kept going against her."

Rory puffed her chest out. "That's because I'm good at it. Shame he died knowing that I would always win."

Halley, who had raised her cup of juice to her lips, choked.

"Fine!" Gid got off the bed. "Let's go explore."

"Good idea." Rory was already reaching for the door.

"What?" Halley said. She set her cup down and jumped off the bed. "I thought we weren't allowed to—"

"Have you ever gone exploring before, Halley Potter?" Rory asked.

"Well—"

"And have you seen every dusty inch of this house?"

"Some doors are locked—"

"Excellent!" Rory made as though she was brandishing an imaginary sword. "Now let's go on an adventure!"

* * *

"What are you doing?" Halley watched at Rory took another bobby pin from her hair and inserted it inside the keyhole. Exploring wasn't that exciting. There was a library filled with books in a language that no one could read, and some abandoned rooms with heavy white sheets covering the furniture. In such a spooky house, Halley was at least expecting a _ghost_...

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm picking the lock because there has to be something interesting inside. No one locks boring doors." Rory bit her lower lip in concentration and continued working. "Georgia taught me last week and I've been practicing. I'll teach you," she offered. The rest of the Weasley children were sounding very interesting so far.

"Didn't Mr Black tell Dad that a Boggart is in this house?" Gid wondered out loud.

"What's a Boggart?" Halley asked. She couldn't remember which door that Rory was breaking into. There were so many rooms that Mr Black never talked about.

"I don't know," Rory said. "You?"

Her brother shrugged. "I think Mum said that Aunt Muriel is a Boggart."

"Just what the world needs," Rory muttered. There was a click and the door swung open. They looked inside the dark room and—"SPIDER!"

A spider of monstrous size loomed over them, so big that it blocked the view of the room. Great big pinchers snapped together and its multiple eyes zoomed on its targets. One hairy leg twitched and stepped forward.

All three of them screamed and they ran out of the room with the door slamming shut. They huddled in one corner at the far end of the hallway, clutching to each other and very afraid.

"I—I—I don't like spiders!" Rory squeaked.

Halley was never fond of them, but now she had a downright fear of giant spiders that could eat her. "Why does Mr Black have a giant spider in that room?" she asked in a wobbling voice.

"How?" Gid said. "How did he get a giant spider?"

Rory made a whimpering sound. All of the blood had left her face, making her as pale as a ghost. "Maybe...maybe it's because of Azkaban?"

"That's his mother's room," Halley said, remembering what he had said to Mr Weasley. "You don't think—"

"Have you ever seen her?" Gid asked.

"No," Halley said. "I think she's been dead for a while."

"Either the spider ate her, or it's there because he was in Azkaban." Rory stopped speaking. "I don't know which one I don't like more, but a Boggart is a giant, people-eating spider and I don't like it."

They made a solemn agreement to never go near that room and they went off to explore some more. Unsurprisingly, there were more locked doors that even Rory's collection of bobby pins couldn't unlock. Their adventuring continued as they descended to the first floor and came upon the door that led into the kitchen. It was made of a heavy dark wood and was locked, of course, but that couldn't stop the occasional sound of voices leaking through.

"Dad is going to kill us," Gid said.

"We're just a little curious," Rory said.

Halley opened her mouth to agree with Rory, but she heard her name being spoken.

"Shh!" she said to them. She pressed her ear closer to the door. "I think they're talking about me!"

"…she's too young to know..." came the voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"...gone through enough..." said Mr Black. "Only a kid..."

She could hear more muffled arguing from behind the door, and a mysterious clicking sound. Halley looked and saw Rory picking the lock to the ornate door.

"What are you doing?" her brother said.

"We're going to find out!" Rory let out a small cheer when her bobby pins made a loud click—and the door swung open with a loud _bang! _All of them, who were learning against the heavy door, fell to the floor loudly, disrupting the meeting. The discussion went quiet and Halley felt all pairs of eyes on them.

A wizard with greasy hair glared at a stern witch that wore box-shaped glasses. "Yours," he drawled. "All three of them are yours."

* * *

_A Year Later_

"Miss Potter, it would be good for you if you sit down," said a tall black wizard. The gold earring in one of his ears twinkled in the light.

Halley looked up at the several wizards and witches that were standing before her. There was Headmaster Dumbledore, her godfather, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, and a few others that she had gotten to recognise over the year. Nervousness clumped in her stomach, making the room feel too warm and her shirt collar too tight. There was something about the solemn faces and the charged atmosphere that didn't bode well.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" said Sirius and Remus at the same time. "Halley," said Sirius. "Please, sit down. This is going to be a lot to take in." His face was pale and worry lines creased his forehead. A muscle was twitching in his jaw, telling her that something was wrong and that Halley should be worried.

She sat down in a large armchair that could swallow her whole. It was patterned with silver and green with embroidered snakes, much like what the decor used to be. Her small feet dangled above the floor. "Am—am I going back to the Dursleys? I don't want to go back there."

The year flashed before her eyes: Being told that she was a witch, Sirius learning how to make a proper English breakfast and failing several time, cleaning up old Grimmauld Place, spending her days with the Weasley family, getting to experience a Wizarding childhood, Rory teaching her how to fly and then playing Quidditch, eating Mrs Weasley's cooking, calling Sirius by his first name for the first time and how happy he was, being taught how to swim in the creek by Georgia and Felicity, that silly kiss that Gid her at the New Year's Eve party… All of those months of happiness and family and friends, she couldn't leave them. She couldn't bear to lose them all and go back to the Dursleys.

Not after everything.

Sirius knelt down in front of her. "You'll never go back. I promise, okay?"

Halley nodded and felt the sting of unshed tears in her eyes. She could still imagine how dark and cramped the cupboard was.

"She's just a girl," said one of the witches in the Order. "Dear Merlin, she's just a girl."

"Bones, I believe that we have already agreed on her fate," sneered Severus Snape. "It is too late now to turn back."

"Miss Potter," said Headmaster Dumbledore. "You are familiar with the night on how your parents died, am I correct?"

"Yes," said Halley, now noticing for the first time how old and tired the famed wizard looked. His face appeared more thin, wrinkled, and pale. Dark shadows underlined his eyes and new lines were added to his face. "What's wrong?" she repeated.

A deep sort of silence filled the room. Halley suddenly felt very aware of her scar.

Headmaster Dumbledore spoke again. "There is a reason why the Dark Lord Voldemort—" several of the people in the room flinched "—had attacked you and your parents that night." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "At the time I thought that it was good for very few to know. Then I found out what has happened with your time with the Dursleys, and I knew at that point how wrong my plan was. How I should have known before, to realise my mistakes, there was so much more I could have done... I've told selective members of the Order why, and we've elected to tell you on what we plan to do next."

Trepidation made Halley's stomach churn. Voldemort felt more like a bad dream in her life if anything else. She knew that he was gone but his followers still remained. Some never even were sentenced Azkaban and were laying low, according to Sirius. Now there was a deeper reason as to why her parents were dead, there was a reason for her scar. She didn't know how she felt about that.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice sounding smaller and farther away.

"There was a prophecy," the headmaster began.

And Halley's whole world was tilted on its axis.


End file.
